


a little tease and concentration

by tumbleoutyourhair



Series: flying and burning [12]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Wash, Dirty Talk, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Sexy Banter, Smut, Top Tucker, bow chicka bow wow, he loves sex, tho its not explicitly mentioned, tucker is not equipped to handle this, wash could easily be a porn star
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9633764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumbleoutyourhair/pseuds/tumbleoutyourhair
Summary: “i feel like that’s–ah–maybe just you being a bit biased.”biased tucker’s perky black ass.wash is all freckles and broad shoulders and lean muscle shifting under tawny skin. tucker has recurring dreams about long fingers and the first time wash had genuinely smiled tucker had walked into a wall.





	

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: nonnie asked for some tuckington smut or after-sex scene
> 
> welp
> 
> do i even need to tell you what it's rated for???? cuz like....................

tucker has a fantastic imagination okay? what with living in a goddamn box canyon for-fucking-ever with no one around except–who, church? caboose?! the goddamn reds?!?

yeah. so. tucker has a great imagination.

but wash sitting naked astride his lap, head tipped back and moaning like if he doesn’t get tucker’s dick he might actually die? yeah he never could’ve come up with that even if you put a gun to his head.

“jesus fucking christ,” he groans, fingers digging bruises into wash’s hips among the freckles and scars. “this is s-ugh-ch bullshit.”

wash’s thighs flex as he slowly levers himself up and down tucker’s cock in the most mind-numbingly controlled rhythm. his head rolls around, mouth open and panting as he grins down at tucker. “are you really complaining right now?”

tucker tries to glare at him, but wash actually rolls his fucking body what the actual fuck and it loses a little bit of it’s heat. “you’re too fucking hot,” he moans pathetically. “people like you don’t exist outside of porn.”

wash laughs and it does such amazing things to where he’s wrapped around tucker’s dick that he can’t help the strangled whine and jolt of his hips. wash’s replying moan tells him he’s forgiven.

“i feel like that’s–ah–maybe just you being a bit biased.”

biased tucker’s perky black ass.

wash is all freckles and broad shoulders and lean muscle shifting under tawny skin. tucker has recurring dreams about long fingers and the first time wash had genuinely smiled tucker had walked into a wall.

add all that to the sweat rolling down his collarbones, the red-bitten lips, and a dick that tucker has some serious plans with later involving his mouth, wash is a goddamn wet dream come to life.

tucker snorts, arching his hips as wash comes down to draw out another wanton moan. “yeah. so biased. i can barely stand to look at you. someone get me a-ah-ah paper bag over here.”

wash grins dazedly at the ceiling and fuck tucker never wants to forget that look. “here i am riding your dick out of the goodness–no sh shut up–goodness of my heart all i get is sass in return. where did i mmm go wrong?”

“i’m still not over leg day.”

wash laughs, delighted, and fuck if tucker had known all it took to get the stick out of wash’s ass was a dick up his ass he would’ve bent him over the nearest console fucking ages ago.

“still so mouthy. i must be the worst lay ever. of all time.”

tucker huffs out a laugh and swats his ass. “aw, you do alright. don’t be so hard on yourself.”

wash beams. “that’s what you’re for. bow chicka bow wow.”

tucker’s heart launches into the stratosphere and he hides it by yanking wash down to swallow the laughter straight from his mouth. their chests slide damply against each other, and wash moans as the new angle allows him to grind his dick against tucker’s abs.

“christ on a cracker baby you’re fucking perfect,” tucker keens when they pull apart to pant hotly into each other’s necks. “i couldn’t make you up if i tried.”

he practically howls when wash ducks down to tongue the stud in his nipple, hips bucking and one hand gripping at the mussed blonde hair tickling his jaw. “jesus baby you’re so good–you’re soooo good, that’s it.”

tucker’s reached that point where he’s completely lost control of his mouth, but he really doesn’t give a shit because he isn’t saying anything that’s not true and wash is hitching out these tiny whines while tucker fucks up into him. he yanks gently but firmly on the hair still twined around his fingers and wash goes easily, lips parted in lust and anticipation.

before they’d kissed that first time, tucker had had a few ~~fantasies~~ hopes about how it would go, but he couldn’t have been prepared for the real deal. wash is all wet heat and slick tongue. he’s not dominant or submissive, but he debauches and ravishes and licks all common sense right out of tucker’s head.

he’s like that now, sucking on tucker’s tongue in the same rhythm he’s riding his dick. tucker digs his fingers into the meat of his ass, urging him into a faster pace. wash huffs a laugh through his nose, tugging at tucker’s upper lip with his teeth as he eases away.

“use your words,” he murmurs into the small space between them, like his eyes aren’t blown black and his lips aren’t slick with their shared saliva.

tucker smirks at him, panting and eyes half-lidded and not even a little ashamed at how easily and willing he’ll beg wash for anything. “c’mon baby you’ve been so good to me, just a little bit more yeah?”

wash’s cheeks are already flushed from exertion but even in the dim light tucker can see how they darken. “don’t call me baby.”

tucker slides a hand up wash’s sweat-damp abs, grinning cheekily. “then stop being so fucking hot.”

he laughs, pushing himself up, tweaking a nipple as he goes. “can’t help it,” he grinds down mercilessly, eliciting a shout from the man beneath him. “it’s my natural state of being.”

tucker smacks a hand against his flank, putting a bit of force behind it just to see wash’s eyes roll back. “alright agent sassington, make with the riding i’m dying here.”

“you look alright to me,” he chirps, but the next time he rises up, he drops back down with some real momentum, grunts echoing from the two of them. he leans back, bracing one hand on tucker’s thigh to give him proper leverage as he begins riding him in earnest. tucker digs welts into the grooves of his hips, staring up at him with wide dark eyes. wash lets his head fall back, upper body undulating while he angles his hips to drag tucker’s dick against that bundle of nerves that’s going to make him see white.

“you look alright,” tucker pants somewhat belatedly. “jesus wash you look–christ baby you look good up there.”

“shut up,” he moans, free hand dragging down his chest, settling on the flex of his abdomen.

“can’t help it,” tucker gasps back, propping one leg up so wash has something to brace against, and he can get leverage to meet the rhythm the blonde has set. “you look like a goddamn miracle. you love this don’t you? love riding my dick.”

“tucker,” wash keens, hand circling the base of his dick where it’s bobbing wet and red and obscene and fucking hell tucker wants his mouth all over that asap.

tucker hisses lowly between his teeth. “all you have to do is ask sweetheart, i’ll give it to you whenever you want yeah? that’s all you need isn’t it?”

“do you even know what you’re saying?” wash gasps, all but bouncing in tucker’s lap, hand pulling frantically at his weeping dick. “the shit that is coming out of your mouth–”

“i could honestly not give less of a fuck,” tucker grits, baring his teeth in a smile. “not when it makes you look like that.”

“fuck you’re so full of yourself–”

“i mean, really,” tucker retorts breathlessly, back arching, “if anyone is full of anyone–”

wash snarls at him, hips rolling frenetically. “tucker i swear to god shut the fuck up and fuck me already.”

“as you wish,” he crows triumphantly, planting both feet and yanking wash down into the cradle of his hips hard. the blonde’s going to have handprints bruised into his skin but the way he’s howling the roof down makes tucker think he doesn’t really give a shit.

tucker knows wash is close because his moans have hit the breathy pitch that most people only get in porn. his eyes are closed and his face is twisted in a look of desperation and pleasure and fuck he needs to come right now because tucker is not gonna last much longer.

“c’mon baby,” he coos, “you wanna come don’t you? wanna come all over me, want me to come inside you yeah?”

“y-y-yes,” wash wails, sweat dripping from his temples and moisture beading in his eyelashes and tucker is never going to get over this man. ever. “tucker please.”

“oh god,” he gasps, feeling that familiar electrical surge race up his spine. “oh fuck come on wash i’m right there, fuck baby come on!”

wash lets out this broken sound, hand stilling on his dick, arching back into tucker’s thrusts. “shit shit shit–”

“that’s it wash come for me,” he moans as sluttily as he can, angling his hips just at that right angle–

wash doesn’t scream but it’s a near thing. tucker fucks him through it, keeping his eyes open so he doesn’t miss a goddamn thing. his muscles seize and pulse relentlessly around tucker, and he succeeds in jizzing almost all the way up to his neck. he’s mewling as his body peaks past pleasure and even though he must be feeling oversensitive he lets tucker continue bouncing him on his dick.

“jesus wash i–”

“that’s it,” he moans, voice wrecked and heady and sated, “you fucked me so good tucker, you’re so good to me.”

tucker’s jaw clenches, eyes screwing shut fuck he’s so close he can feel wash running a hand through the mess on his chest his thighs are burning he just–he just

he feels a hot tongue drag across his pierced nipple and a low voice keens, “come for me baby.”

he lets out a loud cry, back arching as he bottoms out hard inside of wash, dick pulsing as he fills him past the point of full. wash moans, teeth digging into his bottom lip, hips still rolling because he knows tucker loves the feeling.

“jesus,” he heaves, still coming, “jesus titty fucking christ.”

wash lets out an exhausted laugh as he stills, head drooping and one eye cracking open to inspect him. “you alive?”

“i think i just jizzed my goddamn brains out,” he mumbles, muscles still twitching with the aftershocks.

“mm, feels like it,” wash sighs, leaning forward until their foreheads rest together, despite the tackiness of drying sweat.

he ignores how his heartbeat increases, choosing instead to smooth his hands up and down wash’s spine. “how you feeling? sore?”

the blonde shifts, causing tucker’s breathing to hitch and he smiles slow and pleased. “good. used.”

tucker moans weakly, “oh my god please stop i just came like thirty seconds ago i can’t get it up again this soon who even are you?”

wash laughs, nosing against his temple. “if i make grilled cheese sandwiches will that give you enough time to recover for round two?”

“jesus christ can i keep you forever?”

and wash just laughs even as he settles against him like he has no intentions of ever moving again.

**Author's Note:**

> i apologize for nothing
> 
> wanna cry over headcanons [together](http://agentwashingtrash.tumblr.com/)???


End file.
